985 


he, 


GIFT  OF 


Mei'12'NWMW 

'A  'N  '; 


HEART 


WHISPERINGS 


.111)1)  MONTGOMERY 


Ol'MCK    OF 

TRIUMPHS  OF  FAITH 

HKCLAH,  Mills  College  I'   ().,  CAL. 

1897 


TO 
MY  LITTLE  DAUGHTER, 

FAITh, 

who,  in  her  sweet  child  life,  has  un 
consciously  taught  me  many  of  my 
deepest  and  sweetest  lessons  of  God's 
love,  I  dedicate  this  little  Volume. 

CARRIE  dUDD  MONTGOMERY. 


340L31 


CONTENTS. 


The  Htavtnly  Babe 7 

Behold,  I  Make  All  Things  New u 

Everlasting-  Love 14 

The  Way  of  Calvary 16 

Take  Me,  Break  Me,  Make  Me 18 

Comforted 20 

The  Angels'  Message 23 

Everlasting  Arms 25 

My  Olive  Branch 28 

"  Ho,  Every  One  That  Thirsteth  !  " 31 

Hold  Thou  My  Hand 32 

Unto  You  Is  Born  a  Saviour 34 

Baby's   Hands 37 

Our  Lord's  Prayer  in  Rhyme  for  the  Little  Ones 39 

The  Covert  of  His  Wings 40 

The  Spring-tide  of  the  Soul 42 

Windows  of  Heaven 45 

Led  by  the  Spirit 48 

No  Room  for  Jesus. 50 

Mo.her's  Watch-care 52 

The  Wing  Life 54 

Among  the  Lilies 56 

Fettered  59 

Hushed  to  Rest 61 

"The  Apple  of  His  Eye'' .64 

Christmas  Joy 66 

Making  Melody  in  Your  Heart  unto  the  Lord 68 

"  My  Cup  Runneth  Over" 69 

The  Smitten  Rock 71 

How   Long?  ...72 


THE   HEAVENLY  BABE. 

THE  night  was  chill,  the  hour  was  dark, 
My  taper  burning  low; 
I  knew  no  joy  without,  within, 
No  light  above,  below; 
In  deep  despair  my  heart  was  wrung 

With  pain  that  would  not  cease; 
Alone  I  wept  my  sorrows  out, 
With  none  to  give  me  peace. 

Above  the  echo  of  my  sobs, 

A  strange  cry  reached  my  ear; 
It  seemed  so  sad,  it  seemed  so  sweet, 

I  could  not  help  but  hear. 
I  knew  the  night  wind,  with  its  wail, 

Could  ne'er  so  mournful  be; 
And  yet,  no  choir  of  heavenly  birth 

Could  wake  such  melody. 

The  night  air  bore  again  the  cry, 
So  sweet,  and  yet  so  sad; 

(7) 


It  thrilled  my  being  to  its  depths 

With  grief  which  yet  was  glad. 
'Twas  like  a  voice,  'twas  like  a  song, 

And  yet  'twas  like  a  sob; 
'T  was  like  a  faint  seolian  harp, 

Or  like  a  glad  heart's  throb. 

The  tend 'rest  chord  within  my  heart 

Was  touched  by  its  appeal, 
Though  what  it  meant,  I  could  not  know, 

If  sign  of  woe  or  weal. 
I  opened  wide  the  door,  and  looked; 

The  black  night  frowned  at  me; 
I  looked  above,  I  looked  beyond, 

But  nothing  could  I  see. 

At  last,  I  bent,  with  lingering  gaze, 

My  humble  threshold  o'er, 
And  there  beheld  a  sadder  sight 

Than  e'er  I'd  seen  before: 
A  tiny  babe  in  swaddling  clothes, 

With  face  divinely  fair, 
Reached  forth  its  hands  from  out  the  night, 

And  sought  my  love  and  care. 


THE    HEAVENLY    BABE. 

I  have  no  room  for  two,"  I  said; 
"  My  home  is  small  and  poor; 
And  yet,  I  cannot  say  thee  nay, 

Nor  turn  thee  from  my  door. 
I'll  hold  thee  to  my  aching  breast; 

With  love  thou  shalt  be  fed; 
I'll  make  a  pillow, of  my  heart, 

And  rest  thy  tender  head." 

O  Babe  so  fair!     O  Babe  so  sweet! 

What  means  this  wondrous  change  ? 
What  are  these  glory  gleams  of  light, 

That  make  Thee  sweetly  strange  ? 
What  scepter  this  within  Thy  hand  ? 

What  scars  upon  Thy  brow  ? 
A  babe  no  longer,  but  a  Prince! 

Lord  Jesus,  it  is  Thou! 

And  thus  He  came  in  meek  disguise, 
My  first  glad  Christmas-tide; 

His  peace  and  love,  His  light  and  joy, 
Forevermore  abide. 

He  holds  the  right  to  rule  and  reign, 
He  wears  His- Kingly  crown; 


10  THK    IIKAVENLV    IJAHK. 

He  is  my  everlasting  light, 
My  sun  no  more  goes  down. 

And  still  He  comes  to  seek  His  own, 

The  while  the  angels  sing, 
"There's  peace  on  eaith,  good-will  to  men; 

Messiah  is  your  King." 
Oh,  let  the  lowly  Christ-child  in, 

Your  burdens  all  to  lift, 
Himself  the  first,  Himself  the  last, 

Your  royal  Christmas  gift. 


BEHOLD,   I    MAKE    ALL  THINGS 
NEW. 

POOR,  weary  heart,  with  all  your  depth  of  sin, 
Dyed  deeper  than  the  crimson  in  its  stain, 
Your  Saviour  waits  to  fashion  it  anew, 
In  His  own  lovely  image  once  again. 
A  new  Creation,  whiter  tnaii  the  snow, 
Shall  rise  upon  the  ashes  of  the  old, 
And  blest  indeed  shall  all  thy  New  Year  be 
With  Christ's  own  peace,  and  love  and  joy  un 
told. 

Thy    murmuring   tongue    no   more    shall    speak 

complaint, 

A  Master  hand  shall  all  its  powers  set  free, 
Until  a  silvery  lute  it  shall  become, 

To  praise  the  One  who  lived  and  died  for  thee, 
To  send  a  new  song  swelling  to  the  skies, 

(ii) 


12        BEHOLD,   I   MAKE  ALL  THINGS  NEW. 

Till  angels  round  the  Throne  shall  catch  the 

strain 

And  spread  the  joyful  tidings  all  through  Heaven, 
That  one  of  earth's  lost  souls  is  born  again. 

A  new  commandment  from  your  Lord  and  King, 

With  glad  response  your  willing  heart  revives, 
Since  God  is  love,  His  love  He  bids  us  bring 

And  pour  its  soothing  balm  o'er  troubled  lives; 
And  sweeter  than  the  bounding  beat  of  hope, 

And  greater  than  our  faith,  doth  love  appear, 
Till  all  the  law  of  God  is  thus  fulfilled, 

And  Christ,  in  wondrous  loveliness,  draws  near. 

The  Place  most  holy,  now  is  manifest, 

The  veil  of  Christ's  humanity  is  riven, 
The  ?ic'7(.'  and  /irhi^  icay  of  dying  Love, 

Reveals  to  thee  the  glory  light  of  Heaven; 
And  here  the  pot  of  manna  never  fails, 

And  Aaron's  rod  doth  bud  and  bloom  with  grace, 
The  smoke  of  incense  mingles  with  thy  prayers, 

The  great  High  Priest  reveals  His  blessed  face. 


BEHOLD,    T   MAKE  ALL  THINGS  NEW.        13 

And  lo,  by  faith,  the  Day  of  days  appears 

When  this  sad  world  no  more  shall  groan  with 

pain , 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  be  created  new 

And  Christ  as  King  of  kings  shall  come  to  reign. 
Then  every  tear  God's  hand  shall  wipe  away, 

And  every  grief  shall  be  forever  healed, 
And  on  each  loyal  servant  of  the  Lamb, 

Shall  Christ's  new  name  indelibly  be  sealed. 


EVERLASTING   LOVE. 


o 


UR  dear  ones  sleep  awhile,  and  so 
Their  love  is  hushed  to  dreams, 

But  He  who  slutnb'reth  not  pours  forth 
His  love  in  ceaseless  streams. 


The  tender  arms  that  hold  us  fast 
Are  human  in  their  strength; 

Though  power  of  earthly  love  be  great, 
It  ebbs  away  at  length. 

The  babe  is  pressed  in  mother  arms 
The  while  the  mother  sleeps, 

And  quickly  her  repose  is  stirred 
Whene'er  her  sweet  one  weeps. 

But  Love  Divine  can  never  sleep, 

Nor  turn  His  care  away; 
The  "everlasting  arms"  of  God 

Are  round  us  night  and  day. 

(  14) 


EVERLASTING    LOVE.  15 

O  weary  one,  why  sliouldst  thou  grieve 

Or  doubt  the  care  He  takes? 
Come,  lay  thy  head  upon  His  breast, 

And  sleep  becaus?  He  wakes. 

The  Lord  thy  Keeper  e'er  shall  be, 

Thy  foot  shall  not  be  moved; 
O  taste  the  joy,  the  perfect  peace, 

Of  one  bv  God  beloved. 


THK  WAY  OF  CALVARY. 

SEE  the  meek  and  suff'ring  Saviour 
Fainting  'neath  the  heavy  tree, 
Let  him  take  his  cross  and  follow 
Who  would  His  disciple  be. 

Yielding  up  all  Heaven's  riches, 

Our  deep  misery  to  share, 
He  was  cradled  in  earth's  manger, 

Born  to  poverty  and  care. 

He  gave  all,  no  part  withholding, 
We  must  follow  in  His  steps, 

Laying  down  the  life  He  gives  us 
For  the  lost  in  sorrow's  depths. 

Only  one  path  leads  to  glory, 

Narrow,  steep  and  filled  with  pain; 

Tis  the  Via  Dolorosa 

We  must  tread  with  Christ  again. 
(  16) 


TIIK    WAV    OK    CALVARY.  IJ 

But  the  blessed  Man  of  Sorrows, 
Who  once  drank  the  bitter  cup, 

Cheers  and  comforts  with  His  presence; 
When  we  falter,  bears  us  up. 

Would  you  know  the  Heavenly  sweetness 

Of  a  life  for  Christ  laid  down  ? 
Would  you  know  the  blessed  burden 

Of  the  cross  that  brings  the  crown? 

Yield  in  lowly  consecration, 

Lovingly  His  cross  embrace, 
All  the  blood-marked  way  of  Calvary 

You  can  follow  by  His  grace. 

From  the  depths  of  woe  unuttered. 

From  the  heights  of  grace  thus  known 

You  shall  see  the  golden  glory 
Of  the  overcomer's  crown. 

Even  now  we  catch  the  gleaming 

Of  the  sweet  celestial  shore — 
And  we  learn  the  strains  of  triumph 

We  shall  sing  foreveruiore. 


TAKE  ME,  BREAK  ME,  MAKE  ME. 

TAKK  ME,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  but  the  clay 
That  lies  unused  upon  a  dusty  shelf; 
I  cannot  move  to  meet  Thy  blessed  hand, 
So  weak  am  I,  and  powerless  in  myself; 
I  can  but  cry  for  Thee  with  helpless  moan, 
And  ask  Thee  so  to  work  upon  my  soul 
That  I  shall  let  my  painful  struggles  cease 
And  yield  my  hapless  life  to  Thy  control. 

BRKAK    MK,  0  Lord,   for  hard  hath  grown  the 
clay. 

Until  no  pliability  remains; 
Let  thine  own  fingers  crumble  me  to  dust, 

Till  naught  of  former  shape  the  clay  retains. 
The  vessel  on  the  wheel  was  sadly  marred, 

vSome  trace  of  self-life  spoiled  the  Potter's  art; 
Then  sift  the  scattered  dust  with  searching  eye, 

And  satisfy  my  broken,  contrite  heart. 
(  is  , 


TAKE  ME,   BREAK   ME,   MAKE  ME.  19 

MAKE  ME,  O  Lord,  with  Thine  own,  bleeding 
hands, 

And  streams  of  grace  will  moisten  and  unite 
The  broken  dust  again  to  yielding  clay, 

No  more  to  struggle,  and  resist  Thy  might. 
Then  take,  and  break,  and  make,  until,  so  formed, 

The  Heavenly  Potter  calls  His  work  complete, 
And  in  His  image  fair  hath  fashioned  me, 

A  vessel  for  the  Master's  use  made  meet. 


COMFORTED. 

"  As  one  whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I  com 
fort  you."     Isa.  66:  13. 


S 


OFTEST  songs  of  lullaby; 

Solace  sweet  of  mother  love; 
Kisses  pressed  by  tender  lips, 
Like  the  soft  wing  of  a  dove; 


Mother  arms  that  never  tire, 
Mother  arms  that  hold  so  close; 

Every  charming,  dear  caress 
That  a  gentle  mother  knows; 

Words  of  sweetness  whispered  low, 
Dry  the  tears  that  try  to  start: 

What  a  wealth  of  magic  lies 
In  a  tender  mother's  art! 

Love  untiring,  faithful,  true, 

Love  that  bleeds  to  take  my  part, 

(  20) 


COMFORTED.  21 

I  shall  find  them  all  in  Thee, 
Saviour  with  the  mother  heart! 

Wounds  too  deep  for  human  touch 
Rankle  sore  within  my  breast; 

Only  hands  once  crucified 
Can  avail  to  give  me  rest. 

Broken  hearts  doth  Jesus  heal 

With  a  balm  of  love  divine; 
All  their  wounds  He  bindeth  up, 

Pouring  in  the  oil  and  wine. 

Comfort  me,  O  loving  Christ, 

Clasp  me  close  within  Thine  arms, 

Every  sense  of  danger  gone 
As  I  revel  in  Thy  charms. 

Comforted, — I  shall  not  know 

Aught  of  sin  or  grief  or  care; 
Comforted, — for  Christ  my  Lord 

Doth  my  every  burden  bear. 

Comfort,  perfect  and  complete, 

Which  the  world  can  never  know! 


22  COMFORTED. 

Comfort  flowing  from  Thy  wounds, 
Oilead's  balm  for  every  woe! 

Thou  wilt  sing  Thy  songs  of  love, 
Soothing  all  my  fears  to  rest, 

While  I  la>'  my  weary  head 
In  repose  upon  Thy  breast. 


THE    ANGELS'  MESSAGE. 


up 


EACE    on    earth " —how    strange    the 

message ! 
Listen  to  the  sound  of  war, 
To  the  noise  of  strife  and  conflict, 
To  the  struggle  evermore. 

Do  you  wonder,  weeping  Christian, 
Why  the  message  seems  in  vain  ? 

Why  the  gladsome  Christmas  chorus 
Leaves  on  earth  so  much  of  pain  ? 

"  Peace  on  earth  "  — O  doubting  spirit, 

Let  your  sad  forebodings  cease; 
Jesus  is  the  Overcomer, 

Jesus  is  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

Though  we  see  not  all  things  conquered, 
Yet  our  faith  crowns  Jesus  now, 

And  His  reign  shall  ne'er  be  over 
Till  each  enemy  shall  bow. 

(23) 


24  THE    ANGELS     MESSAGE. 

Then  the  tide  of  Christmas  blessing 
Shall  prevail  the  world  around, 

And  the  glory  of  Christ's  kingdom 
Shall  forevermore  be  found. 

"  Peace  on  earth  "  — how  sweet  the  message 

To  the  saddened,  sorrowing  earth! 
Strife  and  tumult  soon  must  vanish, 
Joy  and  victory  have  their  birth. 

S \veet  and  sweeter  grows  the  chorus! 

Listen,  then,  O  weary  soul, 
Till  it  penetrates  thy  darkness, 

Fills  with  light,  and  makes  thee  whole. 

To  each  heart  that  takes  the  message, 

Even  now  its  strife  is  o'er, 
And  it  hears  the  angels'  music 

Swelling  clearer  evermore. 


EVERLASTING  ARMS. 

I  SAW  a  tender  mother  fond 
Embrace  her  child  of  love, 
Her  shelf  ring  arms  were  softly  laid 
That  tiny  form  above: 
He  slept  and  dreamed — no  shade  of  care 
Could  touch  that  nestling  dove. 

Methought  if  always  those  sweet  arms 
Could  close  about  that  child, 

He  could  not  lose  his  innocence, 
Nor  wayward  grow  nor  wild; 

E'en  that  frail  touch  of  human  love 
Would  keep  him  undefiled. 

But  though  the  same  dear  love  abides, 
Her  arms  must  lose  their  hold, 

No  longer  to  have  power  to  clasp 
The  babe  her  love  controlled; 

(25  > 
3 


26  EVERLASTINC    ARMS. 

Alas!  alas!  beyond  her  care 

He  grows  when  years  have  rolled. 

On  every  side  the  tempter  stands, 

The  pitfalls  thickly  lie, 
The  mother  waits  for  lingering  feet, 

And  prays  'twixt  ever}*  sigh; 
She  stretches  out' her  empty  arms 

To  One  who  rules  on  high. 

And  to  her  faith  a  vision  sweet 

Doth  in  her  heart  arise, 
She  sees  a  love  that  watches  near, 

That  wavers  not  nor  dies; 
She  sees  the  Everlasting  Anns 

Reach  downward  from  the  skies, 

The  Arms  that  never  faint  nor  fail, 
The  Arms  that  never  tire, 

The  Arms  that  lift  the  soul  from  earth, 
And  bear  it  high  and  higher, 

That  lift  it  o'er  the  swelling  floods, 
And  shield  it  from  the  fire. 


KVERLASTINC    ARMS.  2J 

And  thus  she  drops  her  fears  and  cares 

And  learns  to  trust  and  rest, 
The  while  she  lays  her  child  of  love 

Upon  a  Saviour's  breast, 
Enfolded  by  the  tender  care 

Of  Him  who  loveth  best. 


MY  OLIVE  BRANCH. 

MY  heart's  an  ark, 
That  rides  life's  stormy  sea; 
One  little  lonely  bark, 
Sailing  the  waters  dark, 
Wond'ringly. 

Hungry  for  rest, 

It  longs  at  peace  to  be; 
Weary  of  fruitless  quest, 
Crying  in  fear  suppressed, 
Yearningly. 

O'er  the  waves  cold 

Ambition  flieth  frees 
Flies  as  the  raven  bold 
Flew  from  the  ark  of  old. 

Daringly. 
(28  ) 


MY    OLIVE    BRANCH.  29 

Flying  above, 

He  never  returns  to  me; 
Then  soareth  faithful  love, 
Hast'neth  my  snow- winged  dove, 
Trustfully. 

No  rest  in  sight, 

So  homeward  turneth  she; 
Staying  her  hopeless  flight, 
Biding  the  dawn  of  light, 
Patiently. 

The  wild  winds  cease, 

Again  she  skims  the  sea; 
Bringeth  the  branch  of  peace, 
Telling  of  sweet  release, 
Cheeringly. 

And  now  she's  flown 

For  aye  away  from  me; 
My  love  has  found  its  own. 
Resting  at  Jesus'  throne, 
Blessedly. 


30  MY    OLIVE    BRANCH. 

The  ark  will  stop, 

The  wearied  heart  be  free; 
Seeing  the  last  storm-drop, 
'Twill  touch  the  mountain  top, 
Joyfully. 


"HO,    EVERY    ONE    THAT 
THIRSTETH!" 

Isa.   55  :  i. 

HEARKEN,  O  my  weary  spirit, 
To  the  sweet  words  ringing  clear: 
There  are  waters  in  the  desert 
And  thou  needst  not  faint  and  fear; 
<( Every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye!" 

Hear  that  message  as  it  falls, 
O  my  soul,  if  thou  art  thirsting, 
Thou  art  then  the  one  it  calls. 

Hearken  still,  my  soul,  and  wonder: 
"He  that  hath  no  money  buy;" 
Hast  thou  not  a  price  to  offer? 
Then  abundant  thy  supply! 
He  that  goes  most  empty  drinketh 

Deepest  draughts  of  God's  free  grace, 
For  the  "poor  in  spirit"  only 
Is  prepared  the  richest  place. 

(SO 


HOLD  THOU   MY  HAND! 

At  a  meeting  held  by  Consul  Booth-Tucker,  in  Oak 
land,  Cal.,  she  related  the  following  incident.  Her  baby 
girl  awoke  in  the  night  with  violent  sobs  and  screams, 
seemingly  in  great  fright.  Her  mother  was  alarmed, 
and  tried  to  comfort  the  little  one  In  answer  to  her 
words  the  child  reached  out  her  little  hand  through  the 
bars  of  the  crib,  saying:  "Han',  mamma!  han',  mamma!" 
and  when  the  mother's  hand  was  enclosed  in  the  little 
one's,  she  immediately  forgot  her  distress  and  fell  asleep. 
The  application  was  then  given  by  the  Consul,  that  in 
times  of  our  distress  and  loneliness  we  may  look  up  and 
reach  for  the  loving  hand  of  our  Saviour. 

The  incident  suggested  the  following  poem:  — 

DEAR    Saviour,  Christ,   no   gleam   of   light 
appears, 

Hold  Thou  my  hand ! 

My  heart  is  faint,  my  eyes  are  dim  with  tears, 
Hold  Thou  my  hand! 

My  'frighted  soul  calls  out  with  piteous  moan, 

Hold  Thou  my  hand! 
My  faith  is  weak,  I  cannot  stand  alone, 

Hold  Thou  my  hand! 

(32) 


HOLD    THOU    MY    HANI).  33 

I  feel  the  clasp  of  Hand  so  soft  yet  strong, 

And  I  can  rest; 
That  Hand  is  scarred,  and  doth  to  Him  belong 

Who  loves  me  best. 

For  Thou  art  near,  and  e'en  before  my  wail 

Had  pierced  the  night, 
The  Love  that  slumbers  not,  and  cannot  fail, 

Had  planned  aright. 

And  I'm  content;  though  other  hands  should  smite, 

Yet  this  dear  Hand 
Will  hold  me  fast  throughout  the  darkest  night 

His  love  hath  planned. 

And  all  the  gloom  that  hung  like  sable  pall 

About  my  way 
Was  but  to  teach  me  on  Thy  love  to  call — 

In  faith  to  pray! 


UNTO  YOU  IS  BORN  A  SAVIOUR. 

"Unto  you  is  born  a  Saviour,   which  is  Christ  the  Lord." 
Luke  2:11. 


-"U 


NTO  you  is  born  a  Saviour, "- 

Hear  the  midnight  song  of  old, 
Listen  to  the  angels'   chorus, 
As  they  strike  their  harps  of  gold ; 
How  the  blessed  Christmas  anthem 

Swells  and  spreads  the  wide  world  o'er, 
Till  it  reaches  every  mansion, 
And  each  lowly  cottage  door. 

"  Ye  shall  find  Him  in  a  manger, "- 

See  the  Christ-child  lying  low, 
See  Him  stoop  to  meet  the  humblest, 

In  this  world  of  sin  and  woe; 
Not  for  Him  a  gilded  palace, 
Not  for  Him  a  bed  of  ease, 
While  His  people  languish,  dying 

Of  their  fatal  sin  disease. 
•'  34 ) 


UNTO    YOU    IS    HORN    A    SAVIOUR.  35 

Unto  you  is  born  a  Saviour, "- 

Lo,  the  message  comes  to  all; 
Not  from  pinnacle  of  glory, 

But  a  lowly  stable  stall. 
What  a  pulpit  for  His  priesthood! 

What  a  throne  for  Heaven's  King!  . 
Sky-born  hosts  look  on  adoring, 

And  the  high  archangels  sing. 

Unto  you  is  born  a  Saviour,  "- 

Oh,  receive  Him  to  thy  breast, 
.  This  the  temple  of  His  glory, 

Habitation  of  His  rest; 
This  the  home  He  came  and  sought  for 

When  He  left  His  throne  above, 
All  the  recompense  He  asks  thee 

Is  thy  humble,  contrite  love. 

Unto  you  is  born  a  Saviour, "- 

Unto  you,  O  weary  heart, 
With  your  avalanche  of  sorrow, 

And  the  sting  of  Satan's  dart. 


36          UNTO    YOU    IS    BORN    A    SAVIOUR. 

"Unto  you  is  born  a  Saviour," — 

Blessed  words  of  heavenly  cheer; 
Saved  from  self  and  shame  and  sorrow, 
Saved  from  sin  and  strife  and  fear. 


BABY'S   HANDS.   ' 

TINY  hands,  so  full  of  grace, 
Stealing,  stealing  o'er  my  face- 
Restless,  loving  little  things, 
Soft  and  sweet  as  angels'  wings. 

Wee,  coquettish,  velvet  hands, 
With  each  touch  my  love  expands; 
By  their  winning  baby  art 
They  have  captured  all  my  heart. 

Dear  caresses,  ever  true, 
May  I  gladly  keep  in  view 
That  an  angel  from  above 
Holds  me  with  her  sweetest  love. 

Hands  so  dimpled,  sweet  and  dear, 
That  I  fain  would  shed  a  tear 
Lest  in  days  now  distant  far, 
Sin  their  innocence  should  mar. 


38  BABY'S  HANDS. 

Soft  the)*  come  and  soft  they  go, 
Chasing  ever}'  thought  of  woe, 
And  I  quite  forget  to  weep 
While  those  hands  so  gently  creep. 

So  I  kiss  the  finger  tips, 
Passing  softly  o'er  my  lips, 
Praying  God  to  keep  these  hands 
Ever  true  to  His  commands. 

By  Thy  power,  O  Love  Divine. 
Hold  my  darling's  hands  in  Thine: 
Ever  guard  and  ever  guide 
Bv  Thv  hands  once  crucified. 


OUR  LORD'S  PRAYER  IN  RHYME 
FOR  THE   LITTLE  ONES. 

FATHER  dear,  who  lives  in  Heaven, 
May  Thy  name  most  hoi}'  be, 
May  Thy  Kingdom  come  most  quickly, 

Come  to  all,  and  come  to  me. 
Ma)'  Thy  will  be  done,  dear  Father, 

Just  as  it  is  done  in  Heaven; 
Give  us  each  our  needful  manna, 

Even-  day  of  all  the  seven. 
All  our  crimson  sins  forgive  us, 
Just  as  we  forgive  each  other, 
Let  us  not  go  near  temptation, 
But  from  evil  save  us,  rather. 
All  the  power  to  Thee  belongeth, 

And  the  Kingdom  is  Thine  own, 
All  the  glory's  Thine  forever, 

Thou  shalt  reign,  and  Thou  alone. 
Amen. 

(39) 


THE  COVERT  OF   HIS  WINGS. 

"The  beloved  of  the  Lord  shall. dwell  in  safety  by  Him; 
and  the  Lord  shall  cover  him  all  the  day  long."  Deut. 
33: 12.  "He  shall  cover  thee  with  His  feathers,  and  under 
His  wings  shalt  thoii  trust."  Ps.  91  '.4. 

HE  will  keep  me  as  the  apple  of  His  eye, 
He  will   hide  me    'neath  the  shadow  of 

His  wings, 

And  My  spirit  can  not  dream  of  smallest  harm 
As  it  rests  within  His  love,  and  softly  sings. 

He  will  spread  His  wings  above  me  all  the  day, 
He  will  shield  me  from  the  weary  noontide  heat, 

He  will  tabernacle  o'er  me  strongly  still 

When  the  angry  storm-cloud  lowers,  and  tem 
pests  beat. 

When  calamities  shall  thickly,  darkly  fall, 
A  softer  shade  shall  veil  them  from  my  eyes, 

(401 


THE    COVERT    OF    HIS    WINGS.  4! 

And  'neath  the  refuge  of  those  sheltering  wings, 
Naught  of  danger  can  my  trusting  heart  sur 
prise. 

Softly  covered  with  the  feathers  of  His  love, 
In  this  calm  retreat  my  spirit  e'er  shall  hide; 

In  the  safety  of  His  secret  place  of  power, 
In  the  Christ-life  hid  with  God,  I  now  abide. 


THE    SPRING-TIDE    OF    THE 
SOUL. 

w  Rise  up,  My  love,  My  fair  one,  and  come  away.  For 
lo,  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone;  the  flow 
ers  appear  on  the  earth;  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds 
is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land. 
Arise,  My  love,  My  fair  one,  and  come  away."  Song  of 
Sol.  2:10-13. 


"R 


ISE  up,  My  love,  My  fair  one," 

And  haste  with  Me  away; 
For  lo,  the  earth  is  smiling, 
And  flow 'rets  blossom  gay. 


The  winter  now  is  over, 

The  clouds  and  rain  are  past; 

The  spring-tide  we  have  waited, 
Is  hailed  with  joy  at  last. 

The  birds  are  sweetly  singing, 
The  fair  dove  woos  its  mate, 

And  all  the  pulse  of  nature 
With  new  life  I  create. 

(42) 


THE    SPRING    TIDE    OF    THE    SOUL.          43 

Rise  up,  My  love,  My  fair  one," 

In  resurrection  might; 
Forget  the  night  of  sorrow, 

And  plume  thy  wings  for  flight. 

Rise  up,  My  love,  My  fair  one  "  — 
What  words  of  Heavenly  cheer! 

0  weary-hearted  toiler, 

Thy  Saviour  draweth  near. 

My  love  " — O  blessed  Saviour! 

What  means  this  message  sweet  ? 
My  soul  is  mean  and  lowly; 

For  me  this  is  not  meet. 

And  yet  'tis  whispered  softly, 
In  tones  so  s\veet  and  clear, 

1  know  it  is  my  Saviour, 

And  so  I  need  not  fear. 

Rise  up,  My  love,  My  fair  one;" 

I  make  the  old  things  new; 
The  past  of  sin  and  failure 

I'll  banish  from  thy  view. 


44         THE    SPRING-TIDE    OF    THE    SOUL. 

So,  gladly  now  I  hearken, 

And  yield  to  Love's  sweet  call; 

I  rise  to  do  His  bidding, 
And  leave  for  Him  my  all. 


WINDOWS  OF   HEAVEN. 

WOULD  you  see  the  golden  windows 
Open  wide  in  beauty  bright? 
Would  you  see  them  pour  in  blessing 
Dazzling  floods  of  Heaven's  light? 
Would  you  feel  that  tide  of  glory 
In  its  warmth  of  liie  and  love, 
Quicken  all  your  weary  feeing 
With  the  fullness  from  above? 

Precious  heart,  your  Saviour  waiteth 

With  the  love- light  in  His  face, 
Waits  to  "pour  you  out  a  blessing," 

Waits  to  have  you  prove  His  grace; 
Waits  and  pleads  with  tender  mere}' 

That  His  gifts  you  may  not  miss, 
Waits  with  all  a  Father's  longing 

To  bestow  His  sweetest  bliss. 

v  45) 


46  WINDOWS    OF    HEAVEN. 

Will  you  bring  the  "tithes"  He  longs  for, 

"All  the  tithes"  of  hallowed  love  - 
Will  you  bring  them  to  His  storehouse 

In  the  love-lit  land  above? 
He  will  empty  out  His  fullness, 

All  the  wealth  of  Heaven's  King, 
And  will  fill  to  overflowing 

Every  vessel  you  may  bring. 

Jesus  is  the  Father's  Storehouse, 

Long  you've  robbed  Him  of  your  love, 
L/ong  delayed  the  promised  blessing 

At  the  Mercy  Seat  above. 
But  the  sweet  entreaty  ever 

Soundeth  forth  on  angel  tongue; 
Jesus  waits  your  full  surrender 

Ere  the  golden  gates  are  swung. 

And  an  added  blessing  rises 

On  the  promise-laden  air, 
Nevermore  shall  buds  of  Springtime 

Fade  and  wither  in  despair. 


WINDOWS    OF    HEAVEN.  47 

Christ  will  stay  the  fell  Destroyer 

In  thy  body,  soul  and  mind, 
All  the  hope  of  vine  and  harvest 

Shall  its  full  fruition  find. 

Hasten,  then,  thy  consecration; 

Bring  thine  offering  complete, 
L,ay  thyself  in  loving  meekness 

At  thy  Saviour's  pierced  feet. 
L,et  Him  make  and  let  Him  mould  thee, 

Let  Him  keep  thee  near  His  side, 
While  His  heart  of  love  rejoiceth 

And  His  soul  is  satisfied. 


LED  BY  THE  SPIRIT. 


"  As  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  the 
sons  of  God."     Rom.  8:14. 


O 


H,  what  blessed  freedom, 
Led  by  Christ  alone! 
Through  His  precious  leading 
Cares  and  griefs  have  flown. 


Led  by  Love  unerring, 
Led  by  Grace  Divine, 

Brightly  in  my  spirit 
Doth  His  beauty  shine. 

Led,  but  never  driven, 
By  His  Spirit  dear, 

All  my  path  is  restful, 
Ever}"  step  made  clear. 

(48  ) 


LEI)     BY    THK    SPIRIT.  49 

Never  need  of  planning, 

For  He  has  the  care; 
His  the  goal  I'm  reaching, 

His  to  lead  me  there. 

Led  by  God's  own  Spirit, 

Can  I  ask  for  more  ? 
And  when  life  is  ended, 

On  the  other  shore — 

There  the  Lamb  shall  lead  me, 

By  the  fountains  sweet; 
Led  by  Him  forever, 

Bliss  shall  be  complete. 


NO  ROOM   FOR  JESUS. 

"And  laid  Him  in   a  manger,  because  there   was   no 
room  for  them  in  the  inn  "     Luke  2:7. 

NO  room  for  the  Christ-child  who  visits  this 
earth ; 

No  place  for  His  holy  and  heavenly  birth ! 
Oh,  strange  that  a  door  could  be  closed  in  His  face! 

0  blindness  most  sad  that  could  shut  out  such 

grace! 

I'll  bid  Him  come  in  to  my  own  lowly  home, 
And  fill  with  His  presence  my  poor  little  room; 
The  star  then  will  rest  in  its  splendor  divine, 
And  tell  all  the  world  that  this  honor  is  mine. 
Oh,  come,  gentle  Baby;  so  lowly  Thou  art 

1  dare  to  come  near  and  press  Thee  to  my  heart. 
If  Thou  hadbt  appeared  as  a  King  on  Thy  throne, 
I  ne'er  could  have  courage  to  call  Thee  my  own. 
I'll  cradle  Thee  softly  within  my  sad  heart, 
Until  all  my  fears  and  my  sorrows  depart. 

(  50) 


NO    ROOM    FOR    JESUS.  51 

Thy  head  on  my  breast  I  will  tenderly  lay, 
And  each  heavy  care  Thou  wilt  banish  away. 
Sweet  Babe,  here  abide;  my  will  is  Thy  throne; 
Thy  scepter  of  love  Thou  shalt  wield  here  alone. 
Forever  Thy  subject,  I'll  meekly  sit  down; 
My  daily  rejoicings  shall  weave  Thee  a  crown. 


MOTHER'S  WATCH-CARE. 


M 


OTHER  comes  to  watch  thee  sleeping, 

Darling  baby  girl; 

Comes  with  airy,  noiseless  footstep, 
Lest  thy  lids  unfurl. 


Draws  the  downy  covers  closer, 

Lest  a  zephyr  stray, 
Stealing  in  thy  little  cradle, 

Dares  to  stop  and  play. 

Waits  to  see  if  thou  art  weeping 

O'er  a  dream  of  night, 
Soft  to  speak  the  word  of  comfort, 

.  And  to  quell  thy  fright. 

Kneels  beside  thee,  little  treasure, 
Breathing  prayer  and  praise, 

Asking  God  to  guide  and  guard  thee 
All  thy  earthly  days. 

(52) 


MOTHERS    WATCH-CARE.  53 

Prints  a  kiss  so  very  lightly 

On  thy  dewy  brow; 
All  is  well — the  angels  guard  thee, 

Mother  leaves  thee  now. 

Leaves  until  new  fears  awaken, 

And  her  ceaseless  love 
Soft  the  same  sweet  path  retraces 

To  her  sleeping  dove. 

Mother -heart,  so  dear  and  tender, 

Mother-love,  so  true, 
Thou  dost  bring  my  Saviour's  pity 

Strangely  to  my  view. 

For  His  watch-care  never  slumbers, 

So  I  sink  to  rest 
In  the  Mother-love  eternal 

Of  a  Saviour's  breast. 


THE  WING  LIFE. 

"  O  that  I  had  win^s !  "     Psalm  55  :  6,  7,8. 

SO  weary  of  my  strife,  I  long  to  be  at  rest. 
What  healing  balm  can  soothe  this  aching, 

troubled  breast  ? 

I  long  to  fly  afar  from  busy  haunts  of  men, 
To  bear   myself  away,  beyond  their  thought  or 

ken. 

If  only  I  had  wings,  like  yonder  soaring  dove, 
How  quick  those  pinions  fair  should  carry  me 

above ! 

I'd  hasten  my  escape  from  rain  and  stormy  wind 
And  in  the  desert  lone  a  resting-place  I'd  find. 

O  soul!   thou  shalt  escape,  but  by  no  wings  of 

earth ; 
The  pinions  thou  dost  crave,  must  be  of  heavenly 

birth. 

(54) 


THE    WING    LIFE.  55 

'Tis  God  who  plumes  thy  soul  for  onward,  up 
ward  flight. 

Thy  sighs  to  be  at  rest  are  longings  infinite. 

The  Dove  of  God  hath  wings  to  bear  thee  to  thy 
rest 

If  thou  wilt  trust  His  love  and  take  Him  to  thy 
breast. 


AMONG  THE   LILIES. 

"My  Beloved  is  gone  down  into  His  garden  .  .  .  to 
gather  lilies.  He  feedeth  among  the  lilies."  Song  of 
Sol.  6  :  2,  3. 


B 


LOW ,  ye  winds  of  pain  and  sorrow ; 

Blow,  ye  zephyrs  soft  with  peace; 
Blow  upon  my  lily  garden, 

That  its  perfume  may  not  cease. 


Breathe  of  fragrance  sweet  as  Heaven, 
Float  it  to  my  soul's  Adored, 

Till  His  fair  hands  haste  to  gather 
All  the  sweetness  for  Him  stored. 

Reck  I  not  if  rain  or  sunshine, 
Storm  or  calm  my  garden  knows, 

If  the  sweetness  of  its  spices 
Only  forth  for  Jesus  flows. 

( 56  ) 


AMONG    THE    LILIES.  57 

Once  within  this  lily  garden 

Only  thorns  would  make  their  bed, 

Thorns  as  cruel  as  once  woven 

For  the  Saviour's  meek-bowed  head. 

Mystery  divine  and  lovely! 

He  hath  changed  both  soil  and  seed, 
And  among  His  own  fair  lilies 

My  Beloved  comes  to  feed. 

I  "consider"  these  fair  lilies, 

HOWT  they  grow,  how  sweet  they  bloom, 
Fresh  from  Jesus'  spotless  spirit — 

Blest  my  heart  to  give  them  room. 

These  are  lilies  of  the  valley, 

Grown  within  the  shade  of  death, 

Raised  to  resurrection  beauty 
By  the  Spirit's  vital  breath. 

All  "inclosed"  my  lily  garden, 

But  to  One  its  bloom  revealed, 
And  within  its  deepest  recess 

Springs  a  living  fountain  "sealed." 

5 


58  AMONG    THE    LILIES. 

Flows  this  Spring  of  Life  from  Jesus, 
Back  to  Him  its  streams  must  go, 

And  the  lilies  owe  their  freshness 
To  the  Fountain's  constant  flow. 

Jesus,  ' 'altogether  lovely," 
Spotless  Lily  of  my  heart, 

Grow  writhin  my  life  forever, 

I  am  Thine,  and  mine  Thou  art. 


FETTERED. 

1CLIP  thy  wings,  my  bird, 
In  kindly  love; 
Like  as  our  God  above 
Restraineth  us 

When  we  would  soar  too  high, 
And,  sinking  downward,  die. 

Thou  art  too  weak,  my  bird, 

Thy  strength  to  try; 

Wounded  them  canst  not  fly; 
So  rest  content; 

God  holds  us  down  to  earth, 

To  give  new  pinions  birth. 

Thou  must  not  flutter  so, 

But  wait  in  peace; 

When  all  thy  struggles  cease 
Thy  wounds  will  heal; 

I'll  care  for  thee,  my  bird, 

Undoubting  trust  in}7  word. 

(59 


6O  FETTERED. 

So  when  our  God  above, 
In  mercy  sweet, 
Restrains  our  erring  feet, 

We  murmur  sore; 

Nor  see  His  wisdom  great, 
While  mourning  o'er  our  fate. 

If  thou  wilt  still  rebel, 

O  panting  heart! 

And  seeketh  still  to  part 
From  this  kind  love, 

I'll  give  thee  up  to  go 

To  death  and  keenest  woe. 

But  if  content,  my  bird, 

Awhile  to  rest 

On  this  true,  loving  breast, 
Till  thou  art  healed; 

Then  shalt  thou  soar  to  heaven, 

Thy  freedom  gladly  given. 


HUSHED  TO  REST. 

"  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  give  you  rest.'1'1     Matt,  n  128. 

O  SOFTEST  sound  of  seraph  song, 
That  stirs  the  heavenly  breeze, 
Thou  canst  not  wake  among  thy  notes 
Such  blessed  strains  as  these! 
They  hush  me  like  a  lullaby, 

When  rilled  with  earth's  unrest, 
The)'  lift  to  "everlasting  arms" 
Upon  a  Saviour's  breast. 

I  feel  myself  once  more  a  babe, 

By  mother- love  sustained, 
Her  tender  breast  my  hiding-place, 
When  my  wee  heart  was  pained. 
"As  one  his  mother  comforteth," 

I  hear  my  Saviour  say, 
''So  will  I  comfort  thee,  My  child, 
If  thou  wilt  rest  and  stay." 

(61) 


62  HUSHED    TO    REST. 

I  need  not  move  my  weary  hands, 

For  those  that  close  me  in 
Will  strongly  press  away  each  foe 

That  seeks  my  soul  to  win. 
My  aching  eyes  need  not  unveil 

To  view  a  single  need, 
Because  of  eyes  that  slumber  not, 

And  never  fail  to  heed. 

I  need  not  even  wake  my  voice 

To  cry  aloud  in  fear, 
For,  closer  than  my  darkest  dread, 

My  Saviour  waiteth  near. 
My  ears,  so  tired  of  earth's  dull  roar, 

May  close  to  all  below, 
And  hear  the  still,  small  voice  of  Him 

Who  deigns  to  love  me  so. 

And  so,  with  full  and  glad  content, 

A  little  child  I'll  stay, 
And  learn  the  Gospel  of  Christ's  rest, 

Until  Millennial  Day 


HUSHED    TO    REST.  63 

Shall  dawn  without  a  wreath  of  cloud, 

Without  a  shadowing  night, 
And  Heaven's  sunlit,  glowing  joy 

Shall  wake  me  to  its  light. 


-THE  APPLE  OE   HIS  EYE." 

"  Keep  me  as  the  apple  of  the  eye."     Ps.  17:8. 
"  He  that  toucheth  you  toucheth  the  apple  of  His  eye." 
Zech.  2  :  8. 

<l  He  kept  him  as  the  apple  of  His  eye."     Deut.  32: 10. 

AM  I,  Lord,  so  dear  to  Thee  ? 
He  harms  Thee  who  toucheth  me; 
Every  grief  that  hurts  my  heart 
Reaches  Thee  with  stinging  dart. 

Sensitive  my  eye  to  pain, 
Quiv'ring  sore  through  nerve  and  brain; 
But  more  keen  the  pain  to  Thee 
When  a  sorrow  toucheth  me. 

Like  the  apple  of  Thine  eye ! 
In  Thy  love  thus  let  me  lie; 
What  can  harm  Thy  little  child, 
Though  oppressed,  abused,  reviled  ? 

(64) 


"THE    APPLE    OE    HIS    EYE."  65 

Let  me  leap  for  joy  of  heart 
Over  every  sting  and  smart; 
Not  an  ill  can  come  to  me, 
Which  has  not  come  first  to  Thee. 

Fill  me  with  this  thought  of  grace, 
As  I  gaze  on  Thy  dear  face — 
This  my  comfort  and  my  plea, 
He  harms  Thee  that  harmeth  me. 


I 


CHRISTMAS  JOY. 

N  sweetest  chimes  of  golden  bells 

My  heart  keeps  Christmas-tide. 

I've  seen  the  star  of  Heaven's  King, 

Which  brought  me  to  His  side. 


I've  laid  before  Him  all  my  gifts, 

Allegiance  to  prove, 
The  gold  of  faith,  the  myrrh  of  toil, 

And  frankincense  of  love. 

Oh,  come  with  me  to  Bethlehem, 
To  see  this  wondrous  thing,— 

Within  a  narrow  manger  bed, 
Lies  Heaven's  mighty  King! 

O  tender  grace  that  stoops  so  low, 

O  love  that  condescends 
To  take  our  poor  humanity— 

Thou  matchless  Friend  of  friends! 
(66) 


CHRISTMAS    JOY.  67 

Oh,  let  us  catch  the  angels'  song, 

And  publish  it  abroad, 
That  all  who  will  may  hasten  here, 

To  see  the  Christ  of  God. 

Behold,  I  bring  you  tidings  blest: 
"  Good  tidings  of  great  joy, 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good- will  to  men," 
That  Hell  cannot  destroy. 

The  Christmas  glory  sheds  afar 

Its  holy,  tender  light, 
And  hearts  that  ached  with  sin  and  care, 

Forget  their  weary  night. 

Come,  saddened  souls,  and  owrn  your  King 

Give  up  your  grief  and  pain; 
He  waits  to  comfort  and  forgive, — 

Emanuel  doth  reign! 

And  He  shall  reign  till  every  foe 

Shall  own  His  mighty  sway, 
And  universal  peace  and  joy 

Bring  in  the  crowning  day. 

5 


MAKING  MELODY  IN  YOUR 
HEART  UNTO  THE  LORI). 


H 


E  sweetly  breathes  upon  my  soul; 

Soft  strains  of  joy  arise, 
Float  out  o'er  earth's  ungladdened  fields 

And  hasten  to  the  skies. 


He  sees  the  travail  of  His  soul 
O'er  one  for  whom  He  died, 

He  sees  it  born  again  in  grace, 
His  love  is  satisfied. 

My  Saviour  bends  to  hear  the  song 
His  love  has  waked  within, 

The  melody  of  my  saved  heart 
Triumphant  over  sin. 

O  sweetest  melody  divine, 
He  sings  o'er  me  with  joy, 

Rests  in  His  never-ceasing  love 
Gives  bliss  without  alloy. 

(68) 


"MY  CUP   RUNNETH  OVER." 

MY  cup  of  God's  blessing  is  filled  to  the  brim, 
Each  fresh -added  drop  makes  it  o'erflow 

for  Him; 

At  morning,  at  noonday,  and  midnight  as  well, 
This  outflow  of  blessing  for  Jesus  shall  tell. 

I'll  station  my  cup  neath  the  fount  of  His  love, 
And  watch  for  the  drops  to  descend  from  above; 
And  though  my  capacity  never  is  great, 
My  cup  shall  run  over  both  early  and  late. 

A  wee  cup  that's  ever  dispersing  abroad, 

Is  better  than  large  cups  that  spare  naught  for 

God; 

This  brim-over  fulness  ne'er  taketh  account 
Of  the  size  of  the  vessel  under  the  Fount. 

And  one  blessed  fact  I  can  never  mistake, 

All  those  who  are  near  me  must  surely  partake 

(69) 


70  "MY  CUP  RUNNETH  OVER. 

Of  Christ's  blessed  fulness,   which  fills    all    my 

heart, 
And  which  He  enables  me  thus  to  impart. 

Dear  souls  who  are  needy,  don't  wait  and  repine, 
Bring  each  empty  vessel  and  set  them  in  line; 
By  faith  keep  them  standing  'neath   God's  great 

supply, 
And  though  you  give  freely,  you'll  never  run  dry. 


THE  SMITTEN   ROCK. 

Kx.  17:6;  Xuni.  20  :  8. 

SEE  the  riven  side  of  Jesus, 
Watch  the  stream  of  molten  love! 
See  the  crimson  tide  of  mercy 
Flow  from  Calvary's  Mount  above; 
How  it  pours  itself  most  gladly 

At  the  cruel  sabre's  blow, 
As  it  speaks,  in  thrilling  accents: 

"  This  shall  cleanse  thee  white  as  snow." 

Once  the  Living  Rock  was  smitten, 

Never  need  to  pierce  it  more; 
Speak  in  faith's  most  gentle  whisper, 

And  the  streams  of  life  will  pour. 
Unbelief  afresh  would  wound  Thee, 

O  Thou  gracious  Son  of  God! 
But  the  trust  which  gains  the  blessing, 

Never  more  may  lift  the  rod. 

(  71) 


HOW  LONG? 

These  lines  were  suggested  upon  reading  a  letter  from 
a  friend,  in  which  he  refers  to  his  little  four-year-old 
daughter,  who  asks  the  question  of  her  mamma,  "  How 
soon  is  Jesus  coming  to  get  us?  " 

E'EN  the  wee  child  heart,  sorrow  oppressed, 
Looks  to  Thy  coming  for  blessing  and  rest: 
But  what  of  the  souls  with  agony  crushed  ? 
And  what  of  the  lives  by  fever-heat  rushed  ? 
Oh,  what  of  the  souls  slain  all  the  day  long, 
That  lie  'neath  Thine  altar,  and  utter  this  song: 
How  long,  Lord  Jesus,  how  long  ? 

Jesus,  Thy  heart  bends  to  earth,  in  its  love, 
Though  Thou  still  waitest  in  glory  above; 
Salvation  to  many  Thy  tarrying  speaks; 
Souls  for  the  marriage  feast  yet  Thy  love  seeks. 
The  Spirit  and  Bride  sound  the  final  call,  Come! 
Delays  still  the  banquet  till  all  are  at  home: 

How  long,  Lord  Jesus,  how  long? 

(72) 


HOW    LONGf  73 

Go  ye  to  meet  Him!  the  glad  cry  will  sound, 
Music  to  waiting  souls  all  the  world  round, 
Ready  and  robed  in  Christ's  bridal  attire, 
Hearts  all  in  tune  with  the  angelic  choir, 
Hushed  in  His  love,  and  upheld  by  His  power, 
Caught  close  to  His  bosom!    O  rapturous  hour! 
Lord  Jesus,  Thou  quickly  wilt  come! 


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